Let It Go
by Miaa-star
Summary: Standing in the wake of devestation, Prowl waits on the edge of the unknown, alone. Will Jazz be able to let things go? Probably G1.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: _My first story ever. Don't really know where it came from as it was supposed to be a humorous piece. Oh, well. Not betad, so all mistakes are mine. Constructive criticism very welcome.  
_Disclaimer:_ Transformers is the property of Hasbro, song lyrics from "Iridescent" be Linkin Park.

**Let It Go**

**Chapter 1**

Wings drooping low, Prowl entered his dark and empty quarters. He didn't bother turning on the lights – didn't want to see the pristine desk, where no stray pads filled with books and music laid, or the empty walls with no image captures and native mementos hanging on them.

His world lost all colors, turned bleak and gray. For the last two Earth months he only existed: woke up, consumed the allotted energon, did his work and recharged. Bluestreak, Ratchet and even Prime sometimes popped into his office but left soon after when Prowl wouldn't talk about what happened, politely answering that it was no one's business and if they didn't have anything to report then they should leave him to his work.

"_Everyone is righ'. Ya're just a drone, intelligent enough to work but unable to feel anythin'. Do ya even have a spark? How could ya've left him there?!" _The doorwinged mech shuttered his optics at the remembered argument. _"Why the frag won't ya lemme go after him?!" _ He could still see the other mech's faceplates twisted with anguish and anger, the tightly coiled body and the fist heading for his cheekplate. _"I hate ya. I neve' wanna see ya again." _was the last thing he heard before he registered the sharp pain from his doorwings and darkness consumed him.

The tactician shook his head with a grimace. That memory plagued nearly all his waking moments, from the brem he onlined on the floor to an empty room and his partner's belongings gone till he dropped into recharge when his systems could no longer function in his exhausted state. It also brought anew the deeply felt hurt at the accusation and terror for the other mech's safety. No one has seen or heard from him since their argument and Teletraan One couldn't find his spark signature.

Sighing, Prowl lay down on the couch, trying in vain to stop the shaking and the keens escaping from his vocalizer. Since that fateful day he couldn't recharge on his berth. Too many happy memories of his lover smiling at him in the morning, cuddling close to his chestplates; of exchanging sweet gentle kisses right before recharge, when they didn't have enough strength for something more; of passionate touches, insistent mouth and the strong glow of two sparks joined together.

"I'm so sorry, Jazz" Prowl sobbed to the quiet room, "I just didn't want you to get killed too. I love you too much to let you go on a suicide mission." He had calculated the odds of their agent surviving long enough to be rescued. He had made dozens of plans how to get him back. Not one of them ended successfully.

Just before falling into recharge, the black and white mech whispered "Forgive me".

He never saw the dimly lit visor in the corner of the room, observing his every move, taking in his every word. Never felt the gentle touch on the cheekplate that was still dented. Never heard the whispered "Wha' have I done?" as a black and white mech rose from his knees and left, fluid streaming from behind the blue visor.

_You were standing in the wake of devastation,  
And you were waiting on the edge of the unknown.  
And with the cataclysm raining down,  
Insides crying, "Save me now",  
You were there, impossibly alone._


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: _Well, here's chapter 2. I think there will be one more. Thank you to all who reviewed for your positive remarks. I really needed that. So, thanks and enjoy!  
_Disclaimer:_ Transformers is the property of Hasbro, song lyrics from "Iridescent" be Linkin Park.

**Let It Go**

**Chapter 2**

Optimus headed for his office early the next morning with a frown hidden behind his mask. He was worried about his two commanders, good advisors and close friends. Red Alert reported that Prowl left his office late into the recharge cycle, barely online from exhaustion.

And there was still no word about Jazz – no sightings or demands from a triumphant Megatron to give up on any rescue plans for the Porsche; no distress signal received or his greyed frame found. Even Teletraan One couldn't find the Head of SpecOps, though Optimus suspected that Jazz had hacked their systems and masked his presence before he went off and disappeared.

He had Sideswipe and Red Alert combing through the programming code but didn't have high hopes of the faulty lines being found – their TIC was just too good. The only thing they were able to do was to confirm the death of their undercover agent at the hand of the furious Decepticon leader.

"Well, maybe no news is good news," Prime sighed as he entered the room. No sooner had that thought gone through his mind than his sight fell on an unexpected, but certainly welcome sight.

Jazz sat in the visitor's chair, paint scratched all over his body, mud and energon caked on in thick layers. That wouldn't be anything unusual as far as reporting after the more gruesome missions went if not for the fact that he came into the Autobot leader's office unseen after such a long absence.

"Jazz!" exclaimed the red and blue mech, happy to see his friend alive and relatively whole. "When did you get here? How? Why didn't you-" Optimus trailed off upon seeing the expression on Jazz's faceplates.

"Optimus, please close and lock the door. I do not want to be interrupted." The Prime did as requested then sat behind his desk. He gazed at the morose yet determined expression of his TIC, dread starting to pool in his tank.

Jazz stood up to his full height, straightened his back and snapped off a perfect military salute. "I, Jazz, Head of Special Operations and Third In Command of the Autobot Army, officially relinquish my position and request permission to leave the service." His features contorted into a look of deep pain. "I... I don't deserve to be called an Autobot anymore. Not after I hurt the mech closest to my spark like this."

"Tell me what happened, from the beginning." Optimus requested after a long tense moment.

"I don't think I can explain. Hurts too much, deep in here" the visored mech laid his servo on his chestplates, right over his spark. "Besides, it's a private matter concerning only me and Prowl." Jazz's visor flashed aggressively on the last sentence. His whole posture changed: body tensed, servos balled into fists and he rocked on his pedes as if reading himself to leave the office quickly.

However, the Prime could easily see that the anger was directed not at him, but at the speaker himself.

"I'm sorry but it's not negotiable, Jazz. I don't think you fully understand your situation. You disappeared for over two months with no word, neither on any official mission nor on sanctioned leave time. As the humans would say, you went AWOL. That alone is punishable by a long brig time and later confinement to the base." The sabouteur dropped into the visitor's seat at those words.

"In addition" Optimus continued, "right before you disappeared my Second in Command was punched in the faceplates and all reports state that you have seen him last. Therefore you can be charged with assault on a superior officer. And let's not forget tampering with Teletraan One's scanners. If you do not explain your actions, as Commander of the Autobots I will have no choice but to detain you. You will be given a trial and a chance to state your case."

Prime looked at his TIC with something akin to pity in his optics. "As it looks right now, you will probably get demoted and taken to prison for a long time."

As Jazz listened to the speech, he started to slump in his seat, visor dimming, until he laid his head on the desk, looking defeated. "No fair, Prime. Ya don't need t' take me on a guilt trip. I feel guilty 'nough as it is."

The red and blue mech stared at him steadily. "What happened, my friend?"

_Do you feel cold and lost in desperation?  
You build up hope, but failure's all you've known.  
Remember all the sadness and frustration,  
And let it go,  
Let it go._


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: _I'm so sorry for the long wait. Many things happened and my motivation to see this to the end went out the window. I hope this will be enough for you, my readers. As always reviews and constructive criticism are very welcome. Happy New 2013 Year!  
_Disclaimer:_ Transformers is the property of Hasbro, song lyrics from "Iridescent" by Linkin Park.

**Let It Go**

**Chapter 3**

Sideswipe was worried. Not in the 'I-have-a-scratch-in-my-finish' way worried (after all, he was not his twin) or the 'Decepticons-are-spying-on-us-need-more-cameras' way (Pit, no mech could be as psychotic as Red Alert), but in the most real 'Prowl-is-too-quiet' way.

The red frontliner had been watching his superior too long not to notice the changes.

Initially it started as a way to see what vexed their illustrious Second in Command. When he came to be under Prowl's command with his brother, they were barely out of their youngling frames and very angry – at their creators for abandoning them, at the system for putting them in that Pit of a care center, at everything and every mech around them for never noticing, never extending a helping servo.

So their reputation preceded them to the new base in Iacon. All mechs washed their servos off the two disruptive 'sparkless killing machines', as they were called behind their backs. All but one – the ever calm, logical and emotionless Chief Tactical Officer.

After each prank pulled by Sideswipe or a fight one or both of the twins were part of he called them to his office, quietly lectured and dealt an appropriate punishment, be it cleaning up the mess, helping Ratchet in the medbay with inventory, the mind-numbing monitor duty or brig time for the more serious transgressions.

However, Prowl never got angry at them – something that the red mech couldn't grasp. It scared him as his previous existence was based on understanding what made bots react in certain ways to avoid getting slagged. Here nothing made sense – different bots wanted them thrown out of the army but were always stopped by the SIC. But why?

And so Sideswipe decided to see what would piss Prowl off. In hindsight, it may not have been his best decision but it truly opened his optics.

'_I can't believe he put me on monitor duty again! It's the fifth time this decaorn! That cold, unfeeling, stick-up-his-aft…' Sideswipe thought to himself angrily as he walked to the quarters he shared with his twin. He was so absorbed in attaching any unfavorable description he could come up with to Prowl's name that he didn't see Wheeljack walking from behind the corner and bumped straight into him. _

_Metal boxes hit the corridor hard and colorful substances spilled on the floor. "What the… Oh, sorry Wheeljack, didn't see you there. Here, let me help." Sideswipe offered, bending over the nearest box and putting the – was it rust? – back inside._

"_I'm sorry I walked into you and thank you for the help. I wasn't watching were I was going with all these boxes in front of me. I have to get them to my lab quickly as Ratchet is waiting for me and you know what happens when he is left waiting." 'Jack flashed his helm fins at his companion._

"_I know only too well," the red frontliner answered with a grin. "Well, let me take a few of those. I don't have anywhere pressing to be and you'd better not annoy the Hatchet too much!"_

"_Oh, thanks! I don't think I could lift them all again." _

_They set off in the direction of the engineer's lab while Wheeljack told Sideswipe about his newest project – a portable energon converter for the scouts and agents going on long distance missions. "… and the rest of the materials finally arrived so I can try which substance would be the best for filtering and converting the ambient energy from the immediate surroundings of the device. I also got the sealer here, so soon it can be tested in the field I think!"_

"_That's great, 'Jack! I think it'll make some missions easier for the bots."_

"_Yes, just need to find the right filter. Oh, we are here! Thank you for your help, Sideswipe. Can you place the sealer - that red substance - on the other table? It doesn't mix well with the rest of these" the happy engineer indicated the rest of his burden. "Don't want any accidental explosions, eh?"_

"_Sure 'Jack, I'll do so, but you'd better be going or Ratchet will have your head." That said, Sideswipe turned to the other end of the lab. But he couldn't put the curios substance out of his processor. 'Why does it seem so familiar? It resembles… Ah! The garnish Prowl has in his office! The one he sometimes adds to his energon.'_

_Then he had an idea. 'Maybe it'll make him sick and he won't be able to make the next duty roster. Ah, the end of monitor duty!'_

_Replacing the garnish container in Prowl's office took some time and planning and culminated in Sideswipe owing several favors to Sunstreaker and Bluestreak, one of the few mechs who regularly talked to the twins. _

_Then the red mech had to do something he most hated – wait. _

_One recharge cycle a few orns later, when Sunstreaker was on patrol, Sideswipe was woken by loud yelling and cursing from outside his door. "What the frag?!" he asked as he stalked through the door, only to nearly be bowled by Ratchet pushing a stretcher, Prime walking right behind him with a worried expression on his faceplates. The younger mech could just see a black arm and a white doorwing of the mech on the gurney disappear around the corner._

'_Prowl!' he thought and, slightly worried, decided to trail behind the hurriedly moving mechs. A few clicks later he arrived in the medbay corridor to see his Prime pace before the closed doors to Ratchet's domain. When he opened his mouth to ask what was going on, he got pushed into the wall by Wheeljack of all bots, racing through the hastily opened and closed doors._

"_Prime, sir? What happened?" he asked quietly. The Autobot Commander didn't answer for a long time, just stared intently at the closed door. Finally he sighed, "I don't really know. I just went into Prowl's office for that report he promised to have ready for me before he went to recharge. Instead I found him lying on the floor near the energon dispenser, a cube spilled near his servo. He… he had trouble drawing in the air…" Optimus trailed off, optics full of worry for his friend._

_Sideswipe's tank dropped. Energon cube? What if…? He slid down the wall next to the medbay doors. 'Maybe I should tell prime about the switched garnish? What if it caused-'_

_The rapidly opened door interrupted his musings. Ratchet stepped out into the corridor, looking tired, worried and as if he was not entirely present. That was probably the reason why he updated the Prime on his Second's condition right there despite the frontliner's presence._

"_Optimus, I got him stable for the moment, but it is not good. Neither I nor 'Jack know what caused this, but we know that the energon in his lines was poisoned. We are unable to detect the poison and neutralize it – we can't even replace his energon! Every fresh batch gets mixed with that substance right away." The Chief Medical Officer shook his head slightly," If something doesn't change Prowl won't last the night."_

_The red and blue mech shuttered his optics in shock and anguish. How could this have happened? No Decepticons were recently detected near the base, nor had any other mechs fallen ill as would have happened in the common energon stock was tampered with. Maybe-_

_He was returned to the present situation by the cry emitted by Sideswipe's vocalizer. The younger mech looked as if he had seen a ghost, then he jumped up to his pedes. "Oh Primus! What have I done?! No, no, no, it cannot be happening! He can't die! It wasn't supposed to happen! I-"_

_The resounding clang of a wrench hitting its target stopped the shouted ramblings. Ratchet stared heatedly at the mech sprawled on the floor and snarled, "I don't have the time for this. Get in there and tell me what you have done. Now!" The order had Sideswipe on his pedes and through the doors in an instant._

"_Sideswipe? What-" Wheeljack trailed off when he saw the expression on the bot's faceplates._

"_Primus help me, 'Jack! I killed him, but I didn't mean to! I thought he would just get a little sick and another mech would have to do the duty roster. I didn't mean this! I-" he was interrupted by another wrench to the helm courtesy of the CMO._

"_Tell me what you did, you imbecile! First we'll save Prowl, then you can ramble on however long you like!" The look in Ratchet's optics promised indescribable pain if he didn't start talking._

_Sideswipe looked at the floor. "I replaced his energon garnish with the similar looking substance Wheeljack got for his energon converter a few orns ago." He finally whispered._

"_The red one…? Oh, the sealer! Ratch, that is why we can't replace the contaminated energon with a good one! We have to first…" That was the last the red mech heard before Prime dragged him out into the corridor. He didn't look amused. Sideswipe had a foreboding that the next orns wouldn't be pleasant for him._

And he was right. He spent the time that Prowl was in recovery confined in the brig, with only his thoughts as not even his twin was allowed to visit him. He couldn't help but imagine all the gruesome ways he would be deactivated at the time. After all, he nearly killed their Second in Command. He imagined that was the least he deserved.

Then Prowl surprised him once again. First, he didn't press charges against the younger bot for poisoning him. Second, he didn't allow any mech, not even Prime, to punish him before he recovered. And third, he didn't punish Sideswipe himself – only gave him a lecture on hazardous substances, their uncontrolled use and potential consequences. Not once did he raise his voice!

That was the last straw for the young adult. He started shouting and raving at Prowl, demanding that the mech do something, react like any normal bot, hit him or-.

Suddenly he found himself enveloped in strong arms, his helm pushed onto warm chestplates as he was rocked like a youngling. And the tough frontliner broke down like a sparkling in the arms of his creator.

It took a long time for him to calm down. It took even longer to understand Prowl's reasons for not doing anything to him for the unfortunate prank.

In the end a deep respect, friendship and the beginning of a brotherly affection were born in the wake of a lengthy discussion about mechs, younglings, Enforcers, good will and the belief that every spark is worth the work and hardships to make it happy.

Now, the roles were turned around. Sideswipe could clearly see that Prowl was hurting – has been hurting for two months. He even partially guessed why – Jazz's absence and the dent on the SIC's cheekplate were very telling, if one knew what to look for.

At the beginning he decided to give the tactician his space and concentrated on reversing the changes to Teletraan-1 that hid the silver saboteur's spark. Couple of months later and he was still unsuccessful while prowl become a shadow of his former self.

Even though most of the mechs on the Ark thought nothing was wrong, the red mech could see the slightly slumped doorwings, the blank faceplates that couldn't cover the pain radiating from pale blue optics and the shaking servos from lack of proper fuel.

'Enough is enough! He will start taking care of himself again or I'll make him!' the prankster thought angrily as he passed the Prime's office on the way to Prowl's room after his night shift.

He stumbled and nearly fell in his surprise at seeing the figure leaving Optimus' office right in front of him. There, in all his scuffed, dirty but definitely alive glory stood-

"Jazz?!"

_And in a burst of light that blinded every angel,  
As if the sky had blown the heavens into stars,  
You felt the gravity of tempered grace,  
Falling into empty space,  
No one there to catch you in their arms._


End file.
